Wild Ride: A Changing Gears Novel by Warren Nancy

Author:Warren, Nancy [Warren, Nancy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ambleside Publishing
Published: 2013-12-17T06:00:00+00:00

Alex pulled in behind the cottage where Duncan was staying. She figured a man who’d been out climbing mountains all day deserved a hot dinner when he arrived home. Down here by the river it was a bustling place in the summer, but out of season it was rainy, dreary, and lonely.

Perfect for a writer in search of solitude and few distractions, she supposed.

She hoped he’d like her surprise—which would definitely count as a distraction. Hating to think of him down here with nothing but a bare-bones summer kitchen after spending a day in the cold mountains, she’d decided to bring him dinner cooked by her own hands.

Maybe it was her way of saying everything was back to normal after their disagreement of the night before. She couldn’t believe Eric would let on to the man she was sleeping with that he’d seen her naked breasts. It was so out of character for the man she knew.

She’d have gone over to the store today and given him a piece of her mind if Duncan hadn’t made her promise she wouldn’t. He said he didn’t want Eric knowing he was the jealous type, and he’d managed to convince her that nothing but awkwardness would arise if she challenged Gillian’s ex.

He was probably right, but still, she was pissed.

Cooking was one of her passions and she’d enjoyed the homey smells of baking as she’d cooked coq au vin, simple and hearty. The smells of red wine, tomato sauce, vegetables, and spices bubbling around a free-range chicken had made her feel housewifely today as she’d completed her weekend chores around her apartment. The washing, ironing, and cleaning. She loved the smell of beeswax polish on the antique desk her grandparents had given her for a graduation present, the sparkle of windows when she cleaned them, the steamy, fresh laundry scent of ironing.

It had been her habit to cook her grandfather dinner once a week and deliver the meal with enough leftovers for a couple of days. Then they’d chat, play chess, or watch TV in the evening. It hadn’t mattered what—it was the connection that was important.

No psychiatrist needed to tell her that she was recreating her ritual by cooking for Duncan. She grimaced as she realized she’d brought plenty so there’d be leftovers he could heat later in the week. She also had a crusty loaf of bread, a salad, a bottle of burgundy—and something she hadn’t taken to her grandfather’s—a raging case of lust.

Even as she put her feet to the gravel and gathered her bags, she was aware of the excitement in her belly that had been simmering all day along with the chicken.

She only hoped Duncan would be as excited to see her as she was to see him.

A knock on the door yielded nothing. A tiny frown gathered. Duncan’s beige rental was parked in its usual space so she’d assumed he was there.

Was he out walking? After climbing? She glanced around her at the rain dripping from the dark green cedars and firs.

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